You Left Us
by ubiquitousantiquitous
Summary: "I'm ready to go, sunflower." She turned to Harley, and if she weren't already dreaming she would know that Pam looked like one, with her cheeks pinked and lips red. She stared at her mouth as if diamonds would gently flow from between her teeth. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"


**Anonymous: Harleyivy fanfic prompt: harl has a nightmare and goes to Pam for comfort :)**

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**Oh ho. Well, this is the sappiest thing I think I've written to date. My god. Good luck trying to wade through all this angst and fluff. See you on the other side.**

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Harley awoke to a morning so bright it burned her eyes. The golden light flooded in from the window and across the bedroom. It was a pretty little spot, the walls and furniture in varying shades of old linens and pastel cotton. She felt so sickeningly warm; she should've known something was wrong.

"Pam?" She called out, not understanding why the name left her mouth. She was just certain she would be there.

Rolling off the bed, she padded out of the room. This wasn't her house; the warm wooden floorboards beneath her bare feet were unlike anything she'd tread across before. She felt so cozy, so safe here.

It was like a real home, so clearly it wasn't hers. Even in a dream, she wasn't foolish enough to think that.

Photographs lined the walls, but they turned into blurs of gold and red whenever she turned to look. Though she knew the house was empty, it didn't actually feel that way. The air itself, golden and heavy and perfectly heated in a springtime way, was almost like an ever-present occupant.

The front door was wide open. At the threshold stood Pam, wearing a dress of pale blue and delicate white lace trimming. Her red hair curled around her in a wafting breeze, and she stared off into the distance, as if waiting for something to appear on the dirt-packed road.

"I'm ready to go, sunflower." She turned to Harley, and if she weren't already dreaming she would know that Pam looked like one, with her cheeks pinked and lips red. She stared at her mouth as if diamonds would gently flow from between her teeth.

"Then I'm ready, too."

Pam only smiled. Harley yearned for a warm nap, wrapped up in that sun-kissed red hair.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

A painful jab tore through Harley. "What?"

"I'm leaving Gotham, remember?" She held up her left hand, and two rings—a simple gold band, the other bearing a diamond that shone like the burn of a freshly heated brand in the sun. "We had a good run, kid. Please kick some ass twice as hard, for me."

"Aren't you—" Harley's vision blurred. "Aren't you ever gonna come back? I bought this nice house for us, used nearly my last damn penny, we even have a garden—"

"But, sugar, you're the one who never stays. Right?" Pam took Harley's left hand in her own, and together their two sets of rings, mismatched, glittered in the light. Pam's diamonds and gold, Harley's a blackish metal and dark stones. A large J was branded into the metal. "After all, you're the one who left us first."

A car pulled up, and Ivy grabbed a suitcase Harley had never seen before. She kissed Harley's cheek and stepped back.

"Goodbye, sweet pea."

Harley's eyes snapped open to a dark room, a half-moon shining through the curtained window. The air was cold, and so was her bed. The heat wasn't working again. Downstairs, she could hear the familiar sound of Selina and Pam arguing. Harley breathed in a little easier, but there was still a layer of dread she couldn't shake. Blankets, she found, often made a wonderful cocoon.

Harley set off in search of her friends.

"—Can't seriously still be in love with that guy," she caught Pam saying from the hallway outside the foyer.

Great. They were talking about Joker. If Harley wasn't so shaken up, she would've stormed in, but she needed Pam's softness and tenderness to be at least somewhat permanent.

"You can't deny he and I have chemistry," Selina retorted, much to Harley's confusion. "And history. You try and say that if we both got over ourselves—his self-righteous bullshit, mostly—we couldn't be the real McCoy."

Ohhh. Batman. Ugh. The only thing more annoying than B-Man and his legion of ankle-biters was Selina's on-again, off-again, never-quite-ending status with the Dark Knight. Personally, Harley preferred Selina with _Bruce Wayne_. Partially because Harley was so used to having practically no money to her name, and the thought of them becoming some sort of power couple she could ring up for favors was _very _enticing. Selina got huffy when Harley referred to him as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hunky, but she chuckled when Pam called him Mr. Deep Pockets.

Selina apparently preferred them brooding and never actually seeing their face—maybe. Eh, they had to have done it at least once without the mask.

_Puh-lease_, Harley almost laughed aloud. _The guy's taken so many punches—mostly by yours truly—that he probably looks like Willem Dafoe. Of course they kept the masks on. Or at least him and his ugly mug_.

At that disturbing thought, Harley stepped into the room.

"Harl," Selina was the first to her feet.

She and Pam had been sitting in opposite chairs, sipping hot cocoa and listening to tinny Christmas carols on Ivy's old record player. Pam remained seated, now wearing a scowl with as much ease as she wore her bottle-green turtleneck sweater.

"You all right? You look like you've seen a ghost. Or like Isis pounced on you in your sleep. I told you to keep your door closed at night. Mama's girl likes to prowl."

"Mm-mm," Harley shook her head, flushing slightly as Selina fixed her blond bangs, likely rumpled from sleep. "Had a nightmare."

"What about?" Pam's voice was sharp.

Selina mouthed the word "jealousy."

"Um," a blush overtook her face. "Y'know. Just nightmare stuff."

_Just the unraveling of whatever our relationship is. Y'know, the uje._

"Do you want to take Isis to bed? She only pounces when she's on the hunt; she's a good snuggler, otherwise."

"If I wanted a warm and fuzzy thing to curl up with, I'd—"

"Ask Pam?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that I don't _have _to shave, Selina Kyle, especially not during winter."

"Chill," Selina huffed. "I was joking. I haven't shaved since three months ago."

"I was just," Harley cut them off, "I was just wondering if, y'know, one of you guys wanted to tuck me back in…"

Harley looked right at Pam, but she was angrily studying the marshmallows in her mug. Her sharp profile was all the sharper when angered.

"I'm scared," Harley added.

Selina glanced from Harley, to Pam, then back again, and winked.

"On it!" Suddenly, Harley was hoisted into the air bridal style. "Onward to—oh. Oh no."

The two teetered backward, and Harley fell from Selina's arms into Pam's lap. The redhead just barely had time to set her cocoa down on the table. Selina began backing out of the room.

"I, um, just spontaneously started my period, and, um, I also need to…shit? Yeah. Off to the toilet and then to my room to cry for the next three-to-seven days."

_Real fuckin' subtle,_ Harley glared at Selina as she ran out.

For a moment, Harley stayed in Pam's lap, and in that moment it was almost as if her nightmare had never happened. She took Pam's left hand and found it blessedly bare but for a red cut along the knuckle. She kissed the injury, wondering if it was from gardening. Pam's skin was always scuffed or bruised from tending to her plants. Pam shivered slightly at the contact of lips to skin.

"Okay. Off."

The words were like a slap. Harley hopped off, and Pam stood. She was fully dressed, shoes and all.

"Ya—goin' somewhere?"

"Out. Convenience store. Selina and I rock-paper-scissored for it. I lost. Go figure."

"I wanna come, too!"

Ivy arched a brow. "You have five minutes to change."

"Forget that, I'm going out in my pajamas. I ain't proud. Just a coat and shoes. Just don't leave without me, _please_."

Pam stared, questions in her eyes, but didn't press. Harley was both thankful for it, and wished she _would_ ask.

Ivy kept a few feet ahead on the sidewalk. Harley tried to keep stride, her boots stomping through slush of a snow that came and went while she slept.

"What did you dream about?" Pam's words were distorted by the wind. It was the first thing she'd said in ten minutes, and they were already coming up on the corner store. It was the only business lit for blocks, and the light cast Pam's shadow upon the ground in a way that made their distance all the larger. "What did you dream about, Harley?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," Harley clenched the list in her pocket as the doors dinged open for them.

"You would've told Selina."

Harley blinked. "Wha? Nah."

It sounded like a lie, because it was. She would've needed someone to run the details of her nightmare by, and she couldn't tell Pam. It would be embarrassing, and she might cry.

"The list," Pam held out her hand, not looking at Harley. It would be that way for the rest of the shopping trip. "Of course Selina still drinks TAB soda. And she wants a case of Red Bull? This list is supposed to last only for a week; the woman is looking for a heart attack."

"What do you dream about, Red?" Harley handed her a gallon of milk.

"Awful rude to ask when you won't answer someone who wants to help. C'mon, let's check out."

They spoke no more, even when they arrived back at the hideout. After they put their groceries away, Pam ran upstairs, leaving Harley alone in the kitchen. Her chest aching like she'd just run a marathon, as if she'd never been born with air in her lungs, she perched on a barstool and buried her head in her arms, folded on the counter before her. Sobbing, she thought Pam's name until she succumbed to sleep.

The dream started at the kiss, but the sun was gone, and no words came from Pam's mouth. Everything was silent. Harley couldn't feel the soft press of skin to skin this time. Red hair disappeared into the passenger side of the car, and together Pam left with the mystery man.

Sound returned with a snap.

"Red," Harley gasped, launching herself from the porch. She ran after the car, but it was long ahead. "Red! Pam! _Pam! PAM!_"

She kept going down the road until it transformed effortlessly into a deep, tangled wood. All the while, she shouted for Pam, begged her not to leave her behind. Only the trees listened. Vegetation began blocking her path, encroaching from behind, before finally overtaking her. Dragging her down. Drowning her. Harley stopped fighting.

_Through the earth. Through the earth. We'll take you to her, through the earth_.

"Harley!"

Warm, worm-infested soil transformed into the cold tile of the kitchen floor. She'd fallen in her sleep. And the kitchen light was still on; lot of good that did her for her nightmares.

Someone helped her to her feet. She steadied herself, rubbing at her sore side, unshed tears burning her eyes. She felt so miserable, cold and achy and empty.

"You were screaming my name in your sleep. Selina thought I was killing you. I told her I'd be much sneakier about it than that."

Now it was Harley's turn to be unable to look at Pam. She was joking, but still mad, and so soon after that dream even hearing her voice was like sending a spray of needles throughout her chest.

"Why didn't you go up to bed?"

"I didn't wanna go on my own. I wanted you to stay with me."

There. She'd said it. What it meant, she didn't know. But she was ready for Pam's response.

"Oh," and she left the room. Of course. She had found that Harley was okay, now she was through. This was just how it was for them sometimes. She supposed she should count herself lucky Pam checked at all.

"All right," Pam reappeared at the kitchen entrance, unfurling Harley's discarded blanket. A deep flush was nestled high in her cheeks. "C'mon, I'll tuck you in."

Harley sniffled, but laughed.

"I'm a lot stronger than ya, y'know. I should be carrying you."

"Not when you're the one who needs it, kid. And I'm taller. C'mon."

They were halfway up the stairwell when Ivy began losing steam. Harley tightened her hold on Pam's neck, her face as hot as Pam's but from being carried bridal style again.

"Y'know, if ya drop me, it's like you're calling me fat," she whispered against Pam's ear. "I'd never forgive ya."

Pam groaned and stomped her way up the rest of the stairs, taking off in a pained run in the direction of Harley's room. She practically flung Harley onto the bed; she almost made it there herself, but her knees gave out, and Harley had to hoist her up. They both lay flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling from the edge of the bed.

"Listen, d'you need a cigarette or somethin'? You're pantin' like ya need one.

A scowl on her face, Pam flipped Harley the bird.

"Tell—me your dream," Ivy fought to capture her breath.

"Can't, it's too weird."

"I'll tickle you."

"Go ahead. Don't care."

"I'll hang you upside down by my vines."

"You seen how long I can stand on my head? For _fun? _Ain't gonna faze me."

"Fine! I guess if I mean so _little _to you, I'll go get Selina. You and her can gab all night."

"Pam…"

"It's not like she combs your hair, and constantly tells you you're pretty, and reminds you you're smart, and holds you up when you start to fall to pieces over that creep, or tries to memorize your favorite food—"

"_Pam_."

"—so you don't end up miserable and eating things you hate when you finally come back to us from _him_, or sews your costume when you tear it, or kisses your forehead when—_OHF!_"

Harley pulled Pam onto the mattress and pinned her down, sitting on her thighs. Tears fell from Harley and landed on Pam's cheeks, her green eyes wide in bewilderment and baring the tiny gold flecks Harley liked so much to search for whenever their gazes met. Harley rested her forehead at the region of Pam's sternum; she could feel the rapid beat of the older woman's heart through the contact.

"I take you for granted, _all the time_, and I'm _sorry_. You do so much for me, every little thing you can do, and I just take it and leave. I don't give nothing back." Her tears started to soak the worn material of Pam's shirt. "I dreamt that you left Gotham. Left me. I'd bought us a nice little house, a house for _us_, us and no one else. But you left us. And I followed you, but I got lost, and it was dark, and I couldn't breathe, and I shouted your name but you didn't come save me!"

One of Pam's hands rested on Harley's spine, the other twined through her tangled blonde hair.

"But I did come for you," Pam explained gently, all anger gone from her voice like the tension in her muscles. "Downstairs. I didn't leave you, and I never have. You're the one that always leaves, Harley. Not me."

Harley sobbed harder, burying her face in Pam's neck to hide her shame. "I know."

"And that's what happened in the dream, isn't it?" Pam pulled Harley further up onto the bed so they could both lie comfortably. She spoke softly against Harley's hair. Together, they huddled under the blankets, Pam's cold toes against Harley's, Harley's face buried in her cinnamon-scented hair. "You're the one who left us first, right? Even in a dream, I would only leave if you left."

Harley thought about the ring in her dream, how heavy and black it had been. The only thing wrapped around the finger now was a small ringlet of red hair, gentle and weightlessly coiled.

"You could stay, you know. We could have that house. No more nightmares."

"But—but—we can't…"

"_Him? _Again? You're going to choose him over us, right to my face this time? You've told me countless times, hundreds of times that I'm too distant. I don't show my feelings like you want, like you'd want _him_ to do. Fine. I told you before, I don't believe there's sunlight in Gotham, and I still believe that, but when…but when we're _together_, Harl, I can almost feel it. I touch you, and it's like I've caught a sunny day in a net. I hold you, and it's like I've finally caught a firefly that's been fluttering in and out of my sight for a long, dark summer's night. But you never _stay_, Harl. You're the one that's always leaving me behind."

"I…I don't mean to, Red," Harley choked. "I just…I'm no good. I ain't got nothing for ya. You may like me now, but that'll change. Soon you'll start getting bored, and you'll think about shutting me up, then locking me up, then hitting me, _strangling _me…you might even wanna use a gun when we…"

"Harley!" Pam stopped her. "You make me happy. Isn't that enough?"

"But—but I'm a crybaby! I can't cook, or do laundry, and I'm definitely not as smart as you—"

"Think back, sweet pea, and think hard. Did you ever think these things before Joker started saying them to you? When you were a child, when you were older still, did these thoughts _ever _cross you mind before him?"

"Even my parents thought I was dumb," Harley laughed, still crying. "Even after I went through college, and grad school. I had to prove to them, to _all _of them, that I was smart. I did some awful things to make sure of it, too. I just wanted to get my own talk show, maybe even _really _help people. But what'd I do? I snapped, and fell for the first person who so much as said I was a good gal, and now I'm stuck. I ruined _everything_."

"No, you haven't. You _are _smart, Harley. I've never met someone so clever; Nigma can suck an egg. You're clever where it counts, a sweet cleverness. And you're kind, and forgiving—too forgiving, but it's something at least. And loving. Most people would vomit at the idea of having hyenas for pets, or two of Gotham's criminal elite for best friends, but you do it anyway, and aren't ashamed of it. You're the bravest woman I've ever met. Don't you see it? Don't you start to see it, when you're away from him?"

"No," Harley nuzzled into Pam's neck. "Just when I'm with you."

Years from now, when Harley's hair grew longer, and Pam's shorter, cut cleanly just beneath the chin, the two of them would walk into town from a sunny little house. Harley's dress would billow in the breeze, a smudge of soil would be on Pam's cheek.

It was only a dream, Harley knew. She and Pam would always belong to Gotham. But the dream was happy, and their ring-less hands were laced together in the sun.


End file.
